Featured image by DarkmoonArt_de from Pixabay
“Hello” came the chipper voice after a few rings.
“Hello. This is Gina, Bobby’s sister. Have you seen him?”
“He’s at work” came the response.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought too, but he’s gotten really good at hiding from me. I need to talk with him about a new project and can’t find him.”
“Why don’t you come over at 7pm tonight for supper? Bobby wanted to grill some steaks and I’m sure we will have plenty. It would be nice to finally meet you.”
“Finally? How long have you two been together?” Gina let slip without thinking.
“Off and on for six months, but I moved in a month ago. We’re both trying it out.”
“Trying it out?” Once again Gina’s brain refused to let logic control her mouth.
“Living together to see if we want it to possibly be a permanent thing. You really should come over. Sounds like there is a lot about your brother you don’t know. Assuming we are still together in a few months I’m planning on hosting a traditional Thanksgiving dinner. Just friends and family.”
“Yeah, 7pm sounds good. I’ll bring some wine.”
“Feel free but alcohol is the one thing this house is never short of. Regular conversation can be in short supply and that’s really what I hope you bring.”
Shit! She wants to get to know me. Gina thought as she hung up the phone. This girl really is settling in for the long haul.
At ten minutes to seven Gina pulled up to the gate of Bobby’s mansion. She pressed the buzzer and was greeted by the same chipper voice followed by the gate opening. Arriving at the door carrying two bottles of red she was kind of shocked to see a Mercedes and Volvo in the garage. The real shock came when the door opened. Gina was prepared for a blue eyed blonde fuck puppet. The kind of woman Bobby had been obsessed with since he had Lindsey. What greeted her was a petite woman having long brown hair and green eyes. She had that glee club energy though.
“High!” she nearly shouted as she threw her arms wide to hug Gina. It was awkward for Gina to say the least. Not really a hugging person. Some might say she wasn’t a person, just the business. They wouldn’t be far wrong if one overlooked the biological evidence.
Chitter, chatter taking the bottles from her and whisking her inside through all of the show rooms to the kitchen. Old rich people never entered a kitchen. They had servants for that. The young rich and regular people never got away from the kitchen being the center of the home and the television room being the center of everything else.
Gina kept to brief generic responses while this woman prattled on as if they were life long friends, completely ignoring the fact her guest didn’t know her name. Well, oblivious to it at least. After this woman had consumed the last of the oxygen in the kitchen Gina could finally ask a question.
“I didn’t see Bobby’s car, is he not here yet?”
“He’s out back with the grill” came the bewildered response.
“But the red . . .”
“He sold that three months ago” came the almost annoyed response. “You two really don’t talk do you?”
“Not very much lately, no” Gina had to admit.
“What happened?” came a more serious inquiry.
